Kiss Me
by mildlyholmes
Summary: Mischievousness, when it comes to the Opera Ghost, doesn't always come in the form of pulling pranks. —Based on a prompt I received on tumblr.


**A/N:** Ha, I got a prompt on tumblr of "Kiss me." and I couldn't refuse. And ATS is on the way—should be up within this week.

* * *

"Kiss me."

Christine balked, eyes wide. "What?" she spluttered. It was odd for her to have reservations against kissing him – normally she would have been happy to comply – but their chosen location was not an ideal place to steal a smooch from her fiancé.

Erik, however, seemed to share none of her worries. Clad in his long, black coat and evening suit, he was the very image of a wealthy gentleman enjoying a night of opera. He was faintly obscured by shadow – Box Five, in addition to its fantastic view, was known for its thick curtains that casted shade on its occupant – but was otherwise visible from the stalls of the theatre. The only sign that he was but a normal man was the white mask covering the right side of his face.

His golden eyes darted towards the stage, for a moment, lingering on the figure of Carlotta as she trilled her way through the aria. Christine winced from her position next to him as the prima donna hit a sour note, causing her to momentarily screech in the song. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she felt Erik's eyes on her profile.

"Look at the audience," he said exasperatedly.

Christine obeyed, taking her gaze off the woman on the stage to the stalls. The men and women in smart attire all bore different expressions: some of disgust, others of boredom or alarm. It was clear that Carlotta was far past her prime despite her claiming otherwise.

She felt him lean close to her, his lips barely brushing her ear. "You belong on that stage, my dear – not her," he murmured silkily, and she couldn't help the shiver that coursed through her body at his seductive timber. "The managers are in full view of this box: a perfect time to make a statement. Kiss me, Christine."

"Are you mad?" she hissed, cobalt eyes darting to meet his. "This is the most ridiculous suggestion you have ever made!"

"Perhaps," Erik agreed, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, "but you refused to let me threaten them, _mon amour_."

"Of course I did," she muttered, glancing at the box where André and Firmin sat. "But how could seeing me kissing you _possibly_ make them change their minds?"

"It would fluster them, for one." Christine rolled her eyes at that, but could not suppress the small, amused smile that tugged at her lips. "And the managers are not entirely aware of just how… _intimate_ our relationship is," he continued. "They think that you are my student, and I am your teacher. Perhaps they have suspicions of something more between us, but these are merely suspicions. Providing them with proof of our marriage will make them think twice about defying my instructions when it concerns you."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Erik, we're not married –"

"– yet," he finished. "But," – he brought her left hand up to rest against his masked cheek, leaving the glinting diamond ring on her finger plainly in view – "they won't know that."

Christine stroked her thumb over the smooth material of the leather. "I still think it's a stupid idea."

Erik shrugged. "There are more effective ways, yes, but this method would allow me to kiss you."

"You can kiss me in your home," she pointed out.

"I could." His lips brushed against her jaw, pressing a fleeting kiss to her skin.

"Or in my dressing room, or on the rooftop. You could even kiss me _here_ , behind the curtain."

He made a noncommittal sound of agreement, moving her hair from her neck to bury his face there.

"You could kiss me on my bed," she breathed, fingers curling into his hair even as she continued to speak. "We would be comfortable there, and we could," – her breath hitched as he began to gently suck on her pulse – "we could do more than kiss…"

He groaned against her neck and her eyes fluttered closed. She found herself suddenly forgetting why she had objected to kissing him in the first place. All she knew was that they were sitting in Box Five, Carlotta's incessant caterwauling drowned into the background, and Erik's lips were trailing a path back up to her face.

"We could," he agreed, breathing against the corner of her mouth. "But I find that I am tired of keeping our relationship a secret, Christine. I want them to _know_ what you are to me, to _understand_ that when it comes to you, my angel, I am uncontrollable."

Christine gasped as his hand began to creep up her side that was facing away from the audience, leaving them completely oblivious to his thumb brushing against the thin cotton concealing her breast. "There will be other performances, Erik –"

"No," he said sharply. "If the role is for an alto, I would not object, but they will soon realize that brushing aside your talent in favour for a demanding diva will not be tolerated by the Opera Ghost. I want them to realise _exactly_ what you are to me, Christine, and that putting my _wife_ out of their production for no apparent reason will make me very, very angry. And I assure you, they do not want me angry. Now, Christine – _kiss me_."

This time, she couldn't have disregarded his wishes even if she had tried. Erik brought their lips together in a fierce kiss, instantly lighting her ablaze with his unbridled passion. She melted into his kiss, parting her lips for him as he brushed his tongue against hers, drawing a moan from her throat. It was electrifying, intense, immediate. Her bodice suddenly felt much tighter than usual, her skin begging to be touched.

The arm of the seat was uncomfortably digging into her stomach but she ignored it, leaning further towards Erik's chair in her need to be closer to him. She grabbed fistfuls of his hair, pulling him towards her, entirely unrestrained in their kiss. His bottom lip caught between her teeth drew a melodic groan from his mouth and she felt a triumphant blaze within her chest.

His lips began to slow against hers, until he pulled away with her after a sweet, lingering kiss. For a moment, both occupants of the box struggled to catch their breaths, their foreheads leaning against each other's.

"Brava, angel," Erik rasped after a while, a smirk upon his lips. "I think the managers have received our message."

Christine turned her head a little to glance at the box where the managers sat. Both looked flustered and pale-faced, and she felt Erik's smirk widen against her cheek.

"Good," she said, somewhat amused, before she turned back to look at him. "But I find that I'd like to continue this elsewhere, where we won't be as… ah, _limited."_

Her fiancé growled in approval against her skin, and instantly stood from the chair. It amused her to see how hasty he was in his movements as he extended a hand to take hers, not even bothering to straighten his mask. He led her to the side of the box where the latch hiding a hidden door lay, but before he could fully bring them into the shadows she pulled him against her for a fierce, heated kiss.

When she pulled back he was panting, and with a smile she noted his desire pressing against her thigh, evident despite the many layers between them. Winding her arms around his neck, she leaned in to brush her lips against his ear. "Did they see that?"

She felt him turn his head to better look at the managers, his chuckle vibrating against her chest. "Yes, they did."

A giggle escaped her lips before she pulled away from him, giving him an inviting smile before finally stepping into the shadows. Erik could hardly contain himself as he eagerly followed.

A small click echoed softly through the box as the two lovers made their escape, their laughter going unheard by any of the audience members.


End file.
